


It’s A Bad Week To Be A (Patrick) Brewer

by wildxwired



Category: Schitt’s Creek
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, shark week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 21:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20032357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildxwired/pseuds/wildxwired
Summary: David is the last person Patrick expected to be into Shark Week.





	It’s A Bad Week To Be A (Patrick) Brewer

**Author's Note:**

> Dun dun....dun dun...It’s Shark Week y’all!!! 🦈 Well, for some people it is. 
> 
> Thanks to the guests at rosebudd motel for just being awesome.

David is the last person Patrick expected to be into Shark Week. 

“You’re the last person I expected to be into Shark Week,” Patrick notes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against the sink and watches David unpack bottles of wine from his tote onto the drinks cart. 

David blinks and frowns. “That’s so stereotypical of you.”

Patrick chuckles softly. “Not really, considering I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Narrowing his eyes, David looks both charmed and annoyed. 

“You can’t redeem yourself by being cute,” he says, dropping the now empty tote on to the dining table. 

Patrick smirks and crowds David against the back of a chair. “Yes I can.”

David huffs and rolls his eyes, lips quivering, desperate to smile. “Fine, you can. But just for that I’m watching all three hours of today’s documentaries tonight.”

Kissing David’s cheek sweetly, Patrick nods. “Seems fair.”

*

“So,” Patrick starts as they sink into the couch after dinner. David stretches his legs out over the couch and Patrick quickly pulls David’s feet into his lap. “Sharks…?”

“Sharks,” David confirms, retrieving the remote from down the side of the cushions. He glances at Patrick who continues to stare. David laughs, almost nervously. “What?” 

“Nothing!” Patrick insists, hands starting to rub absentmindedly at David’s socked feet. He’s quiet for another moment as David flips on the TV. “It’s just, I don’t know...weird.”

“Weird?” David repeats, mouth twisted. 

“Unexpected,” Patrick corrects himself. 

“Mkay, well how about you _unexpectedly_ go and make a spreadsheet of your concerns at your desk whilst I enjoy a montage of underwater spectacles.”

Patrick pinches at David’s toes, pulling a teasingly wounded face as David squeals indignantly. 

“It’s just not something I’ve heard you mention before,” Patrick says once David has settled again. 

“I haven’t had cable in a while.”

Patrick hums in obvious disbelief. “Right.”

Huffing, David drops the remote and fiddles with the cuffs of his sweater instead. “My high school experience wasn’t the best. It wasn’t the worst, but I still tried to make myself invisible from most people.” Patrick trails a comforting hand up David’s shin. He knows the ugly parts of David’s adolescence, or well, what David has chosen to share with him anyway. His anxiety has greeted Patrick on several occasions, and each time Patrick has simply listened. 

“I was fourteen, my parents were always busy, my best friend had ditched me for her goth phase and my first therapist was kind of a dick.” Patrick squeezes David’s knee, offering nothing more than a small, sympathetic smile. 

“My biology class had a trip to the aquarium and when we went through the tunnel...I don’t know,” David pauses to shrug and press his lips together. “I just kind of felt my anxiety sort of, float away. So I hung back from the group and spent the whole time just walking back and forth in the tunnel, staring at the sand sharks and reef sharks. Watching them just glide smoothly overhead was the most wonderfully terrifying feeling, and it just made me forget about everything else.”

Feeling like you want to forget is a feeling Patrick is well acquainted with - he wants to tell David he understands, but instead he traces waves along David’s leg. 

“And then in college I fell hard for this artist, an oil painter, mostly because they painted the most amazing underwater scenes. The first exhibition I ever hosted was centered around the ocean and I probably bought more than half of the pieces myself. I was completely in love with the imagery of it all, especially sharks. They were tough yet vulnerable and probably reminded me of myself, of my whole family actually, so I tried to do something every year to raise money for conservation projects. Obviously I didn’t tell anyone about that part - if my mother would have found out I was donating to charity she would have taken over the whole thing and thrown some kind of ridiculous Titanic themed fundraiser. And then…”

David stops and stares back at his hands as they fiddle with his cuffs some more. He sighs deeply, making Patrick ache a little. 

“And then we lost everything and I couldn’t help anymore, so I stopped watching. Last year, just after we met, I watched the documentaries online for the first time since moving here. There was so much more threat to them that it gave me even more determination to get the store off the ground so I could help again.” He swallows and nods and Patrick can’t help but notice David’s slightly quickened breathing. 

“David,” he starts softly, shifting and shuffling closer until he can press his lips to one of his favourite spots just above the bow of David’s lips. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

David’s smile is bright, washing away any anxiety from sharing the broken pieces of his cracked past. He tucks a finger beneath the collar of Patrick’s T-shirt. “You know, the blue shark is my favourite shark,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to the flesh it reveals, making Patrick sigh.

“Really?”

“No,” David smirks and Patrick snorts. “It is my second favourite though. My favourite shark is the wobbegong.”

Patrick pulls back to stare at David dead in the eye. “You’re making that up.”

David sucks the corner of his cheek into his mouth and shrugs. “Fine, Google it if you don’t believe me.”

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Patrick taps away, glancing up at David every other second, waiting for him to burst into laughter. 

He’s not making it up. 

Patrick must pull a bizarre face because David is positively beaming. “It has a beard!”

“They’re actually tassels and they help it to camouflage,” David supplies, and Patrick has to admit it’s kind of hot hearing his boyfriend talk nerdy. 

*

For the next week, Patrick potters around the apartment whilst David watches his documentaries contently. 

Sometimes he watches with him, but mostly ends up just watching David’s face rise and fall along with the waves on the screen. Patrick can’t help but fall in love with David a little more each time, so much so that he usually starts grinning so dopily at David with wide, love sick eyes at David throws a cushion at Patrick’s face and lovingly tells him to get lost. 

During the week, Patrick does everything in his power to ensure David gets to watch the documentaries. He stays behind at the store to take care of late vendor drop offs, makes excuses for David to get him out of Ray’s Tequila and Tacos party (though of course brings home both for David) and even does David’s share of the chores (except for laundry. Patrick is brave but he isn’t that brave. He’d rather come out again than have to guess which items are hand wash only). 

When Tammy the soap maker stops by to drop off a new batch of chocolate and coconut milk soap hearts, Patrick gets an idea. 

*

On the final day of shark week, Patrick comes home to find the dining table covered with two open pizza boxes, both containing a variety of his favourite toppings (and extra cheese). 

“Hey,” David smiles from the couch, already halfway through the first show of the night. “I made dinner.”

“I can see,” Patrick laughs, grabbing a slice of the Italian meat feast with a napkin and settling down on the couch. He leans in and presses a kiss to David’s cheek, who already smells like garlic bread. “Thanks, babe.”

Pleased, David slots himself happily into Patrick’s side, humming with approval when Patrick wraps an arm around his shoulders. 

Patrick waits for the next commercial break before asking about the pizzas. David shrugs like it’s no big deal. 

“Just showing my appreciation for you this week. I know you’ve done a lot to make sure I can watch,” he glances up and kisses the light stubble on Patrick’s jaw that’s grown since yesterday. 

“I’d do anything to make you happy, David,” says Patrick softly as he squeezes David’s shoulder. 

David’s lips continue to nibble gently up Patrick’s jaw until they part to suck a soft piece of skin just behind Patrick’s ear. Patrick gasps quietly, feeling the press of David’s smile as it trails slowly down his throat. 

“I know you would,” David whispers, fumbling blindly at his side for the remote. He pulls away just for a moment, just to mute the TV, before he’s back at Patrick’s neck, working on a very inappropriate bruise. 

When David’s hand starts to rub at the thickness of Patrick’s thigh, Patrick automatically spreads his legs and sinks deeper into the couch, swallowing hard against the embarrassing whine that bubbles there. 

“David,” he murmurs instead as David presses open mouthed kisses along the tops of Patrick’s shoulder, pausing to bite softly just at the jut of his bicep. 

“I love you so much,” David says as he works his way back up the side of Patrick’s throat, the heel of his palm pressing promises over Patrick’s quickly forming erection. “I love the way you treat me, the way you love me, the way you fuck me.” He bites Patrick’s earlobe as he skilfully pulls his jeans open with a single hand. 

“God, _David_,” Patrick whines when David’s hand dips into his boxers to pull his erection free. When the hand disappears, Patrick opens his eyes to find David sucking on his own fingers. “Fuck,” he groans, long and low as David smirks back at him, lips twisting around his own hand. 

The wet friction feels delicious as David wraps his hand back around Patrick’s aching cock and starts to stroke him steadily. His hips buck to meet David’s fist as his works him over slowly, head lolling against the back of the couch as he gasps each time David stops to drag his thumb over the slit. 

David drags his tongue around the shell of Patrick’s ear. “What did I do to get so lucky, huh?”

Patrick moans, pressing his chin to his chest so he can lock eyes with David. “Everything,” he breathes. 

After a week of barely any attention from David, Patrick is soon stuttering David’s name, digging his nails into his own palms and coming hard. David strokes Patrick through his orgasm, whispering little words of praise as he starts to float back down to earth. 

When he can breathe again, Patrick grabs the soft sides of David’s face and pulls him into a devouring kiss. 

*

The next morning, David lets Patrick sleep in. He silenced Patrick’s alarm, sets a new one for ten thirty and creeps into the shower, getting ready as quietly as possible. 

He grabs a coffee from the cafe, smiling as he waits to be served, thinking about all the perfect curves of his boyfriend’s loving personality. Patrick really is David’s favourite thing, blue like the deep ocean and calming like the shoreline. He’s so lost in thought Twyla has to wave his coffee right in front of his face. 

As he unlocks the door to the store, he notices a new display right by the cash. He sighs, trying to not let the irritation rub too sharply around the soft bubble that currently surrounds Patrick in his mind. He’s told Patrick a hundred times not to place new displays without David’s expressed permission, and certainly not by the cash register. 

Setting the coffee on the counter, he peers, confused, at the products he doesn’t recognise. 

The small display is lined with bars of blue soap, speckled with flecks of black and white. They’re neatly tied with twine and a small grey paper fin attached to the end of each bow. 

There’s a sign just above the logo he instantly recognises from Tammy’s soaps. 

It’s written in Patrick’s awful handwriting. 

_*New!*_  
Sea salt deep exfoliating soap  
$5.95  
All profits go to Bite Back Shark and Marine Life Conservation  
~~^~~ 

Behind the display is a stack of leaflets to every aquarium in a hundred mile radius.

**Author's Note:**

> If you’d like to help sharks and other endangered marine life, you can donate to [Bite Back Conservation](https://www.bite-back.com/?v=79cba1185463)


End file.
